


Hope of an Assistant

by PolarGrizz47



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Vigo's Assistant AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 20:14:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17494571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolarGrizz47/pseuds/PolarGrizz47
Summary: "What the 'ell is all this?" David muttered, pausing as they passed by a room filled with glowing amber tubes and trial supplies.





	Hope of an Assistant

**Author's Note:**

> Shipping happens in the next chapters, just wanted to set up the general idea.

David laid crouched by a hay bale, wiping the blood off his hands and pushing the discarded medkit aside. His jeans were torn and bloodied, but he'd live, thankfully. The sirens signaling the open door had wailed a while ago, and he was sure that Meg and Feng had already escaped.

Ace had died screaming awfully on the hook, sacrificed while the Nurse watched and shrieked with delight.

It was eerily quiet now. Just the fog rolling by his feet and the distant sound of the generators pathetically sputtering, now out of power. Even the Nurse's tall tale wails were muted, leaving David standing in the cornfield in a mixture of distrust and hope.

Had the Killer left? Could he get out now?

Was it all some _trick?_

He moved through the arena slowly, following the fencing until he found the exit doors, sealed tight. His gut sank at the sight, but he pulled on the lever despite himself. Nothing happened, no lights or groaning sirens.

Only silence.

"Fuckin' 'ell," David muttered under his breath while searching for the nearest generator. All the floodlights were off, leaving the place illuminated only by the moon. He crept towards the closest hulk of machinery and tried messing with the gears, but nothing happened. The place was dark, no power flowed through the ancient metal.

Unease flooded through him as he stood up, looking around the area worriedly. It was almost more terrifying like this, amidst only thick fog and a nagging feeling of being left behind nipping at him with bitter, broken fangs. David almost felt the urge to scream, to at least lure something near him, show him that he wasn't all alone.

Maybe getting hooked and sacrificed would send him back to the firepit?

He jogged through the tall corn stalks, pushing them out of the way as he searched about. The scrapper came upon a sacrificial beam and balked when he saw no hook. It was folded up neatly inside of the beam, wired shut with bloodied barbed wire. His dark eyes scanned the field, finding that every single beam was without a hook.

His hopes sank.

Getting sacrificed the easy way wasn't going to happen. Either the Killer would have to strangle him with her bare hands or... the hatch.

David spun around, heading towards the Killer's shack. He heard Ace call the alternative escape route out earlier, hidden by the generator, watched closely by Nurse. Jogging closer, he slowed slightly when he saw a stranger walking out from the basement. They both paused, staring at each other in ample dismay before the other man took a quick turn and lunged out the window.

"'ey, wait!" David called, giving chase without hesitation.

The sound of jingling keys echoed ahead of him and David squinted, catching a glimpse of the newcomer running headfirst into the corn stalks. They parted before him and David was thankful for his height. However, even he lost sight of the other's back with the stalks smacking against his face. "Come back!" He shouted, slowing to a jog as he exited the field.

Panting, he paused to catch his breath while scanning the arena. Dozens of hay bales taunted him through the fog, and it was clear that he'd lost track of the stranger. David couldn't help but feel proud of how quickly they vanished, like a true survivor.

He'd certainly never seen that man before though. He would've recognized that hair, and definitely those old school glasses. David wasn't even aware that circular frames were still a thing these days.

He began to pick his way through the expanse of ruins, searching for any footprints or the soft jangle of keys on the wind. Instead, he heard a rough, loud cough. He froze, crouching down on instinct and swallowing down the sound of his thundering heartbeat.

Seconds passed by before another cough echoed, closer this time. A bead of sweat dripped down his brow and David set his jaw while creeping towards the edges of the cornfield.

A bottle went soaring into the air and David cursed when it landed right at his feet and shattered into a dizzying pink mist. Coughing and waving his hand to clear it, he ran back into the stalks, disoriented and annoyed. The Clown was disturbing to fight against and had totally caught him unaware.

A taunting laugh was creeping closer, and another bottle exploded to his left, sending a fresh surge of nausea and confusion washing over him. Wiping a hand over his face to clear his eyes, David blindly pushed the stalks of corn away with his free hand, panting all the while.

He could hear the heavy footsteps getting closer, rough breathing and a coughing laugh filling him with dread.

However, a solid grip fitted around his free hand, tugging him to the left. David pulled against it but paused once he heard an unfamiliar voice whisper.

"Follow me - you aren't in this trial. It'll _kill_ you, trust me," The stranger whispered harshly, dragging him quickly as they broke out into a run. Soon enough, his vision cleared, and David was surprised to see the man from before grasping his hand and rushing headfirst into the ruins as if he knew where the hell he was going.

The jingle of keys danced across the air, only broken by the Clown's harsh breathing behind them.

Dodging to the left, David was stunned as the stranger shoved him against the nearest brick wall and dropped to his feet. A collection of stray hay was pushed aside, as was a pallet, revealing a hatch. One with carvings David had never seen before.

Yanking at his keys, the bespectacled man unlocked the hatch with a hollow click and threw the lid open.

Their eyes met, bright amber gazing into confused brown, and he hissed, "Get down here with me!" And with that, the stranger dived into the darkness of the hatch.

The cough of the Clown was getting closer, and without any other escape plans, David lunged towards the hatch just as the Killer rounded the corner.

"Get back here ya damn assistant!" The Clown bellowed above them, but the hatch snapped closed with only a faint trace of pink mist to show of their would-be demise.

David stared at the darkness above them, panting and confused. He breathed out slowly, calming himself before he turned towards the man who just saved him. "Ya got a lot of explain' to do, mate," He huffed out, slowly getting to his feet, half crouched thanks to how short the tunnel was.

The stranger offered a stressed smile. "I know. I'm sorry, but it was this or... well, you get horribly mangled and sacrificed forever," He offered a hand, covered in dirt and scratches from the corn stalks, "I'm Dwight."

David glanced at his hand, then back to Dwight. He had an honest expression, slightly nervous and fearful, but the scrapper clapped their hands together with a strong squeeze and nodded. "David."

"Good to meet you, David... let's get to the cabin," Dwight jerked a thumb over his shoulder before he began walking down into the darkness. David followed slowly, noting that this hatch was... cleaner. Smelled like lavender and herbs, almost like the offerings they would burn at the start of every trial, the ones to bring them better fortune and luck.

Long minutes of silence passed as they walked until the tunnel slowly brightened and opened up to a foggy cabin in the distance. Dwight walked ahead without worry, passing by a large, surprisingly sustained garden. David moved slower, taking it all in.

The cabin looked old but sturdy. The sky was brighter here, as if night was giving way to dawn, and the fog was barely lingering at their feet. He gawked at it all, confused as Dwight pulled open the cabin door and ushered him inside.

"What the 'ell is all this?" David muttered, pausing as they passed by a room filled with glowing amber tubes and trial supplies. Dwight gave a sympathetic glance before motioning him to sit at the modest dining table. It was circular and wooden, polished to avoid splinters and finished messily, but it stood up under David's weight as he plopped down and leaned onto it with his elbows.

Dwight turned his back then, fiddling with an old stove and setting a teapot onto the open flame. Then, he grabbed two brown mugs and homemade teabags tied together with mesh.

"You got left behind," Dwight began softly, eyes focused on the tea as he fiddled with the cups. "Vigo explained it as if... as if the Entity just forgot to collect you. Or if you were too _troublesome_ to its sacrificial plans -- it would cut you from its trials but... not its realm, sadly."

David quirked a brow and crinkled his nose. "So, what? I can't do trials anymore?"

"You could, but your wounds would not heal as quickly and your death would be... finite." Dwight shivered at the thought, bringing a hand to his mouth to nervously touch at his teeth.

Leaning back, David looked at his hands. Scarred from fights and bloodied knuckles, he wondered what it would feel like to never have to patch up wounds or struggle with a broken generator. A sense of deep regret filled him, a missing purpose. What was he supposed to do now? He was good for trials - he could save people - he could take the beating.

He clicked his jaw and ran a hand over his face, only pausing to pinch between his brows as he thought. "Finite death, eh? So I'd escape --"

"I don't know what happens to you when the Entity is done with you."

"What if I wanted to die?" David suddenly blurted, lowering his hand to glance towards Dwight. The other man flinched and quickly turned his attention to the kettle, which was beginning to whistle softly. David watched as the other man shakily poured the hot water into their cups and stirred the brew.

Finally, Dwight set the dark liquid in front of David's face. It smelled good, warmth and herbs putting the larger man at ease for a moment as he fitted his palm around the cup.

Dwight kept his gaze down, clearly unsure how to handle David's question.

"There... There's a room, down the hall. It's yours for the night, should you choose to stay. The bathroom is on the right-hand side of the hall, my room is on the left. Please, make yourself at home," Dwight bowed his head in farewell before grabbing his own mug and quickly rushing back into the odd room with all the tools.

David sat there in silence for a few moments before groaning at himself. He drank the tea and flinched at how bitter it was before enjoying the warmth that spread through his belly. Hunched over the cup, he tried to think over what Dwight had said.

The Entity didn't want him anymore. Strange, it stung thinking of it like that. His own team had left him and he'd saved them countless times before, waited to make sure that they'd get to the gate... and this is how it ended up. He gritted his teeth against the angry ideas that swirled in his mind and forced himself to take another sip.

Now, David tried to think past the simmering anger, he was more human than an immortal plaything. But he was still trapped here - on the edges of this hellish realm, with the lingering threat of the end towering over him.

Did he really want to die?

He worried his lower lip slowly, mulling over that idea like he was fighting a cat in water. It clawed at him bitterly and left him wanting to fight the Entity more and more. That damn thing had dragged him into this hell, and he was going to see it burn one way or another.

He wasn't going to give up. David King _never_ gave up.

David nodded once his mind was settled and stood up quickly, the chair groaning at the sudden shift of weight. He finished the tea in one easy chug and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand before circling back towards the odd room.

He stood by the entrance and peeked in, watching as Dwight worked with some of the golden liquid, adding droplets onto a collection of petals from dead flowers. Instantly, the dried up petals bloomed to life, colorful and new. Dwight seemed displeased, shaking his head before he turned away from the experiment to scribble something in a worn notebook at his side.

He wanted to apologize for his earlier comment, but he found that he didn't want to interrupt whatever it was Dwight was fiddling with. Quietly, David slipped away from the door and made his way down the hall. He glanced into the bathroom and tilted his head in confusion. Indoor plumbing here was a bit surprising, considering the dilapidated ruins of the trial arenas, but he couldn't question it. Water was water, and he debated washing his face of the sweat and grime, but the idea of sleep was suddenly too tempting to pass up.

He entered the room at the end of the hall and paused, shocked to see an actual bed tucked into the corner. It wasn't a big bed, but it sure as hell beat the logs around the campfire. He touched at it like it was a dream before letting out a happy groan and flopping face first onto it. It wasn't a dream mattress, but it felt like heaven and David smothered himself into the modest, flat pillow.

Sleep sank into him relentlessly and he didn't even have time to kick off his boots before his eyes were slipping closed.

**Author's Note:**

> B) 
> 
> Hope you guys liked so far! Feel free to let me know if you have ay questions or praise. ^^


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